


Memory

by AngelynMoon



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Basically Bucky Trama, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Gen, Hydra (Marvel), I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, I'm so sorry, If it needs a tag tell me, M/M, Memory Loss, Someone help Bucky Barnes, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-23 12:14:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19701166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelynMoon/pseuds/AngelynMoon
Summary: Somethings won't be forgotten so easily.





	Memory

Summary: Somethings won't be forgotten so easily.

\---

It was so easy sometimes, to just for get, to let it all go. It hurt much worse when he tried to hold on, to keep the memories.

The little red dancing girl, her pretty pink ballet shoes splattered with blood to match the red of her hair. She was bright and lovely and she had made him happy, he had tried to take her away, forgotten that he was not permitted human emotion, forgotten that monsters don't get happy.

They had taken her, most of her, left him with splashes of blood to remember her by. 

Long before the little red dancer there had been another that they had taken, taken so much that he no longer even knew if they had been male or female, hardly recalled the color of their eyes, blue but what shade, what shade!? The person was golden, eyes bright with laughter as they smiled at him, laughed at him, with him, but monsters don't experience joy.

He remembers, only before they wake him, only in the brief moments before they take them away again, he remembers their touch, gentle, soft, loving, always accompanied by a word that he no longer knows, but the gentle way it was said, he knew it must have been his name.

Sometimes, still half adrift in the memory, he can feel the ghost of their touch on his face as they held him, as they leaned close to press kisses to his lips, oh, he sometimes remembers, they had loved him.

He remembers too the danger in that, but not because of what he is now, he remembers that before, before he was something else, someone else, he was a person once before they stole him away, before they killed him and remade him into something, no longer a person.

He tried so long to hold that memory, the one of the other holding his face in his hands, of them leaning down to kiss him but there had been so much pain, so much and he had had to let the memory slip away, gone until he slept and maybe gone forever.

And then they woke him, and he could hardly feel the ghost of a kiss before they took it away.

And then... and then...

"But I knew him." He whispered, too dangerous to say the truth, 'But I loved him.'

Oh, how he had loved him, loved him enough to die for him, fall beside him, only he hadn't, he'd been taken, torn apart.

They had told him once, long ago, at the very start, that the man was dead, gone into Ice, never to be found, they had laughed at him as he had cried his denials and as he had cried out and screamed they had mocked him more, Winter Soldier, Winter for the man who had gone into Ice, Soldier for what he had once been.

But the man wasn't dead and as they pressed him back into the chair, he wrapped his mind around the memory that man had conjured, not the one of gentle kisses and soft, 'Bucky's, oh, his name, but another one, this one judt as soft, almost fuzzy at the edges with how soft.

They were lying in bed together, just talking, his hand touching gently at the man's waist, smiling as the other began falling asleep, he had been so beautiful, not just in the outside, it was the inside that mattered more, the inside that made him shine.

He clung to that memory, that moment, evne when it began to hurt, even when it burned, when it faded he cried out, half in agony, half in sorrow.

'Don't take him, please, don't take him from me again.' He begged a God that had previously ignored all his cries.

And then it stopped, the chair silenced, and he still had that memory.

They gave him a new mission. 

They told him to kill his memory.

God had no mercy for monsters after all.

\----

He wasn't fighting anymore, his memory told him it was wrong, he screamed as he struck the other, what he did not know, the memory refused, he watched the memory fall down, down, down.

It was so much worse than when they took him, so much worse, it felt like he was falling too, he remembered falling, remembered dying.

The memory would die too.

He knew him, loved him, couldn't let the memory die.

He dragged the memory from the water, but monsters get no happy ending, so he left the memory there, left him on the sand and walked away.

Maybe he could find that man he used to be, maybe he could be a person again, but not yet, not yet.

They had made him a monster, maybe he could unmake it, find those memories they took from him, be some one again.

He waited in the shadows, waited for his memory's friend to come, followed along with them as they went to a hospital, he snuck in, there was memories here.

Memories of a sick boy, a dying boy, a sad mother, a tired mother, a dead mother, a weeping boy, but only when he was alone.

Oh, he thought as he watched the Memory sleep, he loved him still, a vague feeling of hope, of happiness that was yet undeserved.

When is a monster not a monster? He thought as he watched the memory sleep, When you love it? Or when it loves you?

\------

A/n: Well oops.

What did I just write. Oh dear, as if you probably could guess this is a Bucky POV about his time in Hydra.

I don't even know what this was, It just demanded to be written so have it.

I wrote this in like thirty minutes so... someone should have stopped me... but no one did.


End file.
